Let Sleeping Giants Lie
by Whackadoo
Summary: What's it like to be on the receiving end of Winchester justice? Just a quick peek behind the other side of the coin.


"Why do I have to wear a suit again?" Tim pulled at the tie at his neck.

"Because this is a special occasion, buddy. This is a fancy dinner party and I got special permission to bring you along." His father answered, checking his hair in the mirror.

"But if it's a dinner party, why did we eat before going?"

"Well, because we have a special diet, bud. I guarantee there won't be anything there for us to eat."

"So what makes this party so special that you got permission to bring me?" Tim flopped down on the bed and his father immediately pulled him up.

"Don't. You'll mess up the suit." His father grabbed a tie and pulled it around his neck. "It's special because of who's throwing it. Mardook is practically immortal. He's very old."

"So?"

His father chuckled. "Let me finish, boy. He's a hunter and collects trophies." At the frightened look on his son's face he smiled. "Not that kind of hunter. You know how people will hunt animals and mount the head as a trophy? He started out as that type of hunter, but his prey has morphed and changed over the years. Now he hunts only the rarest of prizes."

"Like what?"

"Well I've heard said rare art, rare weapons. If there is a first edition book that there are only, say, two known copies of in existence? I guarantee you, Mardook has one of them. They say he even has a full dinosaur skeleton."

"They say? What do you mean?"

"Well that's part of what makes this so special. He's quite the recluse."

"What's a rec.. a re..?"

"Recluse. It means he's very private. Keeps to himself. Nobody has been inside his home in years. The fact he's even allowing anyone in his home is pretty huge, but a dinner party? Something big is going down and I don't want you to miss out. You'll be leader of this clan someday, kiddo." His father ruffled his hair and then grunted in frustration as he pulled out a comb to fix what he had just messed up.

They drove in silence until they came to a gated driveway.

"Wow. Does he live in a mansion or something?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. He has amassed quite the fortune over his lifetime."

His father showed his invitation to the man at the gate and then followed a long winding drive through a dark woods. They came out to a mansion that Tim would have described as a castle. "Wow."

It was lit well in the night and there were even flaming torches lining the final stretch of driveway.

"Wow."

His father chuckled. "Yeah. Pretty impressive. Best behavior, okay kiddo? Don't touch anything. Mardook may like to keep to himself, but he's very dangerous. We don't want to draw attention, okay?"

"Yeah sure."

"Tim."

Tim looked over at his father's tone. "Yes sir." His father nodded in approval.

They parked in a long line of cars and joined a mass of people entering the mansion. When they got inside, they were in a huge hall where tables of all kinds of food and drinks lined the walls and mounted animal heads stared down on them from all sides. They were greeted by a butler who welcomed them and suggested they help themselves to refreshments.

His father was right. There was nothing here they could eat. It was all too... fresh. He spent his time looking at everything he could take in. The hall was two stories tall with a small balcony running around it at the second floor. There was a huge glass dome at the peak that would have looked pretty cool during the day.

Somebody bumped into him and almost knocked him over. "Watch it, kid."

Tim backed into his father and started looking at the other party goers. For the most part, they all looked like normal people. Some had black eyes and that freaked him out a bit. He had never before met a demon and hoped he never would. This is as close as he would ever want to get to one. His father always said they were bad news.

"My friends! Welcome!"

Tim followed the voice to see a very noble looking man standing on the balcony overlooking the hall. His father had said he was very old, but he looked no older than his uncle. Maybe upper thirties or low forties, but Tim wasn't the best judge of age.

"Tonight I welcome all my fellow creatures of myth and legend to share my great collection. I invite you to make your way around my home to your right." He waved an arm toward a set of double doors to the side. "Enjoy the displays and be sure to fill yourselves from the tables, for tonight I will reveal my greatest trophy to date! So eat, drink, and be merry, friends!"

"Cool!"

His father looked down at him with a shared excitement. "You ready?"

Tim nodded enthusiastically. Since they weren't currently eating anything, they were some of the first to start their self-guided tour of Mardook's home.

The first several rooms were just art galleries. Busts, statues, and paintings filled the rooms. Many people ooh'd and ahh'd but Tim had no idea why. Although there was a statue of some sort of Greek or Roman god that was in the midst of battle that was just awesome.

"Come on, Tim. You spend all night staring at that statue, you'll miss everything else." His father chuckled and gave a small tug on Tim's suit jacket.

Tim followed him into another room that was way cooler than the first two and he soon forgot all about the statue. The walls were lined with weapons of all sorts and there was even a small trebuchet in the corner.

"Look at this, Tim. This placard says this was the very guillotine that beheaded Marie Antoinette. Huh."

"Who was that?" Tim was in awe of seeing an actual guillotine.

"She was a very unpopular Queen of France. After the revolution, she was beheaded."

"How did Mardook ever get this?"

His father laughed. "For all we know, he was there and bought the thing off the executioner." When his son looked at him with astonished eyes he smiled. "I told you he was very old. Come on. There's more to see."

They made their way through room after room. They saw first edition books and comic books, rare toys, mummies, and even the dinosaur. Near the end there was a room with windows looking down on a garage. Everything else dimmed in comparison to the vehicles in that room. Tim had his face pressed to the glass for ages.

"Hey. I told you not to touch anything. You leave face prints on all that glass and Mardook just might decide your skin would make a fine cleaning rag."

Tim immediately jumped back from the window. "Sorry, sir."

His father patted him on the back. "Come on. One last room."

They entered a large empty room. There were tables near the doorway with various things to eat on them but the rest of the room was empty. As more people came in, they made their way to the far end of the room, away from the tables. At this end of the room, the floor went up a few steps and then there was a curtain pulled across the room, hiding something large from view.

Tim looked up excitedly at his father. "Do you think this is it?"

"Do I think this is what?"

"His greatest trophy? He said he was going to be revealing his greatest trophy yet."

His father looked again at the curtain that hid the end of the room from view and noticed a podium off to the side. "I think you might be right, kiddo, and look here! We got front row seats!"

Tim broke out in a huge smile and stood there trying desperately to figure out what could be behind the curtain. It must be something big to take up the entire end of the room. "Do you think it's a tank?"

His father burst out in laughter. "A tank? What makes you think that?"

"Well it must be big to take up the whole end of the room."

"And how would he get a tank in here?"

Tim looked around again. Other than the doorway they came through, there was no other door that he could see and no windows as they were in the very center of the mansion.

"Okay. Maybe... Maybe it's another statue?"

"Be patient, buddy." His father looked around at the slowly growing numbers of people. "Tell you what. How about you go grab a couple glasses of blood wine."

"Really?"

"Just this once. Just don't tell your uncle."

"Yes!" He rushed through the gathering people to the nearest table and carefully grabbed two glasses and took them back to his father. He slowly sipped at his. It was stronger than anything he was used to.

"My friends! How has your night been?" Tim looked up to see Mardook standing at the podium. The crowd gave polite applause. "Good. Good. Tonight marks a momentous occasion. Tonight I reveal a prize that has literally been years in the making. I started hunting this particular prize over two decades ago. Then, without warning, my prey unexpectedly dropped off the radar. For four years there was no word. I thought I had missed my chance. Then, surprisingly, it reappeared on the scene. I have been cat and mousing my prey all over the United States ever since. Finally... finally I have it! This is the result of a trap that took over six months of planning to lay out and spring."

Tim frowned up at his father. "Papa what does he mean 'a trap'? Since when do you have to trap a tank?"

"Shhh."

"Tonight I give you a piece I like to call "Hunter at Rest". I just ask that, since this trophy isn't behind glass, that you treat it with the same respect you gave the rest of my collection and don't touch." Mardook turned to two men at either end of the curtain and gave a nod. "Hunter at Rest!" He called out and the men released cords of some sort and the curtain dropped straight down to the floor.

Before them was a life size diorama of sorts. Tim felt like he was looking in on a motel room like a girl looks into a dollhouse. It was a room with no ceiling and only three walls. The back wall of the display had a door and fake window. The shades were pulled across the window, but you could see flickering neon light shining through them. In the back corner, opposite the door, was a small table with a laptop open on it, a couple beer bottles, and what may have been a pizza box. Down along the right wall of the display was a small chest of drawers with a tv on it. The tv was on but showing just flickering static. At the front left of the scene was a bed with a man lying on it. He had long hair and wore simple jeans and a plaid shirt. He looked relaxed with his feet crossed at the ankles, a hand resting on his mid section and his other up behind his head. The scene was perfect. You really felt like the man had come back to his room after a long day, flopped down on the bed, and then fell asleep as the tv played in the background.

Tim noticed quite a few people gasp and take a step back. He frowned back up at the display. Why would a man lying on a bed cause a reaction like that? As he studied it he noticed the man's chest move. "Papa! He's alive!" As he said this he heard several other people point out that he was breathing. At this realization, many more people backed away from the display.

"My friends, remain calm. Thanks to some cleverly hidden wires and tubes, he is kept in a medically induced coma. He has been in my possession for over a month now. He is of no threat to you. Even if the wires and tubes were removed, it would take quite some time for him to awake."

"Are you mad?!" Someone yelled out.

More and more people were trying to move away from the display. His father grabbed his arm and gave a sharp tug. "We need to leave this place. Now."

He tried to drag Tim through the ever increasingly panicking crowd to no avail. Their glasses of blood wine were spilled and dropped in the confusion.

"Why papa? I don't understand. What's so scary about a sleeping man? We are creatures of myth who have stood strong throughout the ages, as you have taught me. Why is everyone so scared?"

"Let me put it this way, son. That trophy Mardook is so proudly displaying is part of a set. If he has half of it here, that means there is another piece still out there somewhere. We are not afraid of the sleeping giant on the bed, but of his other half."

No sooner had he said this than a shot rang out over the din. Everyone grew silent and looked around for the source. Tim noticed on the wall, up behind where the podium was, was a small little balcony of sorts. Standing there was a man who looked scary. There was nothing horrifying in his appearance. It wasn't his clothes or his physical features that made him look scary to Tim. No. It was the look in his eyes. It was the look of a man at the end of his rope. A man willing to do anything and die in the process if need be.

"Come on!" His father yanked hard on his arm but there was nowhere to go. The door must have been locked in some way because nobody could get out of the room.

"Mardook! It seems my invite to your little shindig got lost in the mail!" The man called down to their host. His voice gave Tim the chills. It was flat, emotionless. He didn't shout or show anger or rage. His voice was cold.

He raised a large weapon that looked like a grenade launcher from the movies and shot several times out into the room, but instead of exploding in the middle of the crowd, the grenades exploded in the air over everyone's heads. Some sort of liquid rained down on them and several in the crowd started to scream in agony. Tim saw many drop to the ground pulling at their clothes and smoking as if the liquid were like acid, burning them through their clothing. He raised a hand and wiped at the liquid in his hair. It didn't bother him at all. He looked at his father in scared confusion.

"Holy water, boy. It's burning the demons. Come on. If we can't get out of here, then we need to find a place to hide."

Shots rang out and Tim saw a man's head explode right before his eyes. People reacted in different ways. Many, like him, felt like fish in a barrel and ran screaming, just trying desperately to get away. Others bared fangs, claws, and various weapons, ready to fight for their lives. His father pulled him not away but toward the display.

"Under the bed." When Tim hesitated, looking at the man on the bed in fear, his father shoved him toward the floor. "Now!"

Tim crawled down under the bed and covered his ears, trying in vain to drown out the sound of gunfire and screams. His father climbed in with him and held him close.

The noise went on for what seemed like forever. Soon it was joined by the smell of burning flesh.

"Make it stop, papa!"

His father reached over and roughly covered his mouth with his hand. "Shhh! Not a sound!"

Eventually the room grew quiet. Tim looked over at his father who held a finger to his lips.

"Sammy. It's all right little bro. I'm here now. I got ya."

A bloody boot appeared at the edge of the bed and the bed above them sunk under the weight of the man leaning onto it. Tim gasped in fright. His father's eyes grew huge as he quickly slipped his hand over Tim's mouth again.

The weight on the bed lifted and two bloody boots stood at the edge for an eternity.

"Come out from under there or I swear to God I'll shred the bed with you under it." Came a raspy harsh voice.

"Please. Please don't hurt us. We didn't know. I swear. We came to see the dinosaur." His father pleaded, sticking his hands out first in surrender and slowly inching forward.

A hand came into view and grabbed his father roughly about the wrist and forcibly hauled him out from under the bed. "We. Who else is under there?" The voice demanded.

"Please, Mr. Winchester. Please. It's my son. Please."

Tim was more scared than he had ever been in his life. He had never heard his father beg for anything and not only that but it sounded like he had started crying.

"Come out from under the bed, kid." The voice demanded.

"I'm scared!" Tim cried out.

Tim saw his father fall to the floor. "Don't move or the kid gets it. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Tim could see his father laying on his side with his hands out in front of him. Tears ran down his cheeks.

A rough face appeared under the edge of the bed and a hand snaked in and grabbed him be the collar of his jacket. Tim let out a yelp of fright as he was pulled from under the bed. The man raised him up off the floor and held him at eye level. His feet dangled loosely several feet above the floor.

"You can uncover your ears." He said to him.

Tim hadn't realized he still squeezed his hands at his ears. He slowly lowered his arms and glanced around the room. People lie dead all over the room.

"What are you?"

His eyes flicked back to the rough face before him. "Um. My... my name is Tim."

"I didn't ask who you were. I said WHAT are you?"

Tim stammered. For some reason his brain wouldn't process the question.

"Ghouls. We're ghouls." His father answered.

The man tossed him to the floor next to his father and turned his attention back to his brother on the bed.

"We've never taken a life. I swear. We live in old civil war catacombs beneath the city. We have only ever -"

"Shut it!"

His father scooted up into a seated position against the wall, pulling him in tight next to him.

Tim watched in shocked amazement as the man gently lay his hand to the cheek of the man on the bed. So much gentleness from the monster who just moments ago slaughtered an entire room full of people.

"Sammy. Come on, man." He gently smacked his brother's cheek but there was no response. "Damn it, Sammy! C'mon!" A tear slid down the hunter's cheek and Tim was moving before he realized he had even gotten up.

"Sir?" The man turned so quickly, with violence in his eyes, that Tim jerked back a step.

"What?"

"Um, Mr. Mardook, sir... Um, he said he was in a coma." The hunter looked at him in confusion. Maybe his brain wasn't working any better than his in this situation. "He said there were hidden tubes. I could see them under the bed."

The hunter shoved him back towards his father and crouched down to look under the bed. "Son of a bitch." He went down to his brother's legs and lifted his pant leg to reveal it was just loosely draped to make it appear he was wearing the jeans. He pulled the pant leg away to reveal some tubes that entered into his leg and some wires that threaded up under his shirt. He lifted the shirt up and followed the wires to the man's chest. He yanked them off with a vengeance. He then looked at the tubes for a moment and then yanked them out. Blood started flowing out in their absence.

"Shit. Come here kid." He pulled his jacket off and then his shirt. "Take this and hold it against the wound. Press down hard on it."

Tim went over and the hunter grabbed his hand and forced it and his shirt down against the wound.

"Please. Mr. Winchester. Please just let us -" His father pleaded.

"I said shut it!" He yelled. He pulled out a cell phone and walked away from them, keeping his eyes on his brother. "Hey Dirk. Yeah I found him. Can you come? I need your medical expertise. Yeah. Thanks."

He came back over, took the t-shirt from Tim's hands, and shoved him away again. He sat down on the bed and pressed on his brother's leg. He murmured something to the sleeping man that Tim couldn't quite catch and then turned toward him and his father. "If I were you two, I would get the hell out of here now. I swear to god, if I ever see your faces again, mine will be the last thing you ever see. Now go."

Tim's father didn't wait for anything further but grabbed him and picked him up and rushed for the door as quickly as he could get around the mounds of dead bodies.

As they drove away, his father told him of the Winchesters. Hunters of legend as much as he and his father were creatures of legend. He told him how he had worked so hard to keep their clan off the Winchester's radar and that that mantle of responsibility would fall to his shoulders when he was older.

"I fear though, buddy, that it just became a much harder task than it was before. I fear we have woken the giant."

FIN


End file.
